


Time It Was

by Laura_McEwan



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-04
Updated: 2003-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_McEwan/pseuds/Laura_McEwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon has to face an unexpected development with his Padawan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time It Was

_9:30am_

Being summoned to the healer's ward without a word as to why was not what Qui-Gon had anticipated his morning to include. Healer Marin was waiting as he stepped into the ward.

"Master Jinn...thank you for coming."

Qui-Gon gave a short bow, and sat in the indicated chair across from Healer Marin's desk. "What is it?" he asked quietly, leaning forward in concern, a slight frown on his face.

Healer Marin smiled gently. "Your padawan is here. He came early this morning complaining of a pain in his heart."

Qui-Gon blinked. "His...heart?"

Healer Marin nodded. "Yes. We've done a complete examination and have determined that he has Syre's Syndrome. It's a rather rare condition, even more so in this case because of his young age. Usually, we see this in men in their fifties, not their twenties."

Qui-Gon stared blankly at the healer. A hated, familiar chill began to creep into his chest, icy cold fingers of dread settling in his center. "What can be done?"

Marin regarded him carefully for a moment. "I'm sorry, Master Jinn." She paused. "There is nothing we can do. It - it's very quick, and we haven't discovered a way yet to stop the deterioration." She stopped as shock and disbelief registered across Qui-Gon's face; to see a Master affected this way pained her greatly. She shook her head slowly, dropping her eyes to the desk.

Abruptly, Qui-Gon stood, knocking the chair over in his urgency. "Where is he?" he demanded, his voice hoarse.

"Right through there, Master," she replied, indicating a doorway with her hand. The paling master was gone almost before she finished speaking. Slowly, she laid her head down on her hands, folded on the desk. The wave of anguish that had emanated from the distraught Jedi left her feeling faint. Young Kenobi had always been such a breath of fresh air, a light among the other padawans, and she knew that Qui-Gon would not be the only one mourning in the days to come.

Qui-Gon's hurried movements slowed as he approached his padawan's bed, in a room empty of anyone else. His sat with his back turned to Qui-Gon, gazing out the window to the spires of Coruscant reflecting the morning sun.

"Obi-Wan?" asked Qui-Gon softly. His hand hovered over the boy's shoulder, and carefully he rested it there. Obi-Wan's own hand came up to rest on his Master's. Taking a deep breath, and without looking at Qui-Gon, he simply said, "Please, take me home."

And Qui-Gon did. Initially, against the wishes of Healer Marin, and boldly defying Yoda himself, Qui-Gon argued that the boy wanted to be home, and home he would be. Not within the cold, gray walls of the healing dome. Home.

It was Healer Marin who settled it. "Master Jinn - I will allow this - because his time is extremely short." Looking around those assembled in her office, Yoda, Mace Windu, and several other council members, she stated simply, "He has less than a day. Let him be where he will be happiest. There's nothing I can do here but monitor him."

This news sent Qui-Gon reeling. He hadn't realized that "quick" meant "almost immediately." At the moment, Obi-Wan was as strong as he had ever been, but by tomorrow...he would likely be gone. He took a step backwards, shaken. Clenching his jaw, and sending one desperate look at his friend Mace, Qui-Gon turned on his heel and left to fetch his Obi-Wan home.

*~*~*

_11:00am_

"Well, I never expected to be facing my own death in quite this manner," Obi-Wan remarked, matter-of-factly, as Qui-Gon brought him a cup of his favorite tea. He had been silent since he'd asked to come home, and Qui-Gon was grateful that he was at least speaking again, and with a bit of his wry humor included. "I had imagined it would be a fierce battle, where while I may lose my own life, we would be victorious in whatever it was we were fighting for."

Qui-Gon quirked a smile at his padawan. The young always saw death in glory, while the elders hoped for quiet rest when the time came.

He settled himself beside Obi-Wan on the sofa, placing his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Things often don't happen the way we expect them to, do they?" he replied, giving Obi-Wan a gentle hug.

"No," Obi-Wan replied quietly. Qui-Gon could sense his growing sadness, a sudden change from the blank silence of before and the dry remarks just now.

"Obi-Wan...how much did Healer Marin tell you about...this condition?"

Finishing his tea, Obi-Wan took a deep breath. His eyes darted about the room as he considered how to respond. "She was very kind. I could tell how upset she was before she even said anything to me. I knew then, it was not going to be good news." He sighed, looking down at the cup in his hands. "She told me that she figured I had less than 24 hours left...to live. What am I going to accomplish in the next day, Master?" He turned suddenly and looked desperately at Qui-Gon, tears beginning to collect in his blue-grey eyes. "How am I going to 'live' "?

Qui-Gon's breath caught in his throat at the devastation in his padawan's face, blurring through his own tears. The cold ache became the searing pain he hadn't felt since the death of Tahl some nine years previous. It drove straight into his own heart, breaking open cracks that had never completely healed when the one person he had ever pledged his life to had died in his arms.

It had taken time, and it had taken patience and faith on the part of Obi-Wan, and faith in himself, to finally look forward in life, to live in the moment again, and without Obi-Wan, he would have surely taken himself off the cliffs where Obi-Wan had threatened to go with him on that terrible, fateful day. Knowing that, he couldn't let the evil that had taken Tahl also take his bright, shining padawan. He had turned back from the cliffs, clinging to Obi-Wan, and in the privacy and serenity of the ocean bay, he sobbed his loss, shrieked his heartbreak to the sky, pounded his fists to the earth. His control had shattered and Obi-Wan had simply been there for him, rubbing his back, stroking his hair, just holding him until nearly all the grief that had built inside him was released to the Force and Qui-Gon was able to come back to himself, collect his thoughts, and begin to repair his soul.

Obi-Wan never told anyone how his master had fallen apart on that day; it was secret between them. The sixteen year-old Obi-Wan had still needed his teacher, and Qui-Gon owed it to him to complete his training. He himself had needed the boy's bright presence to guide and direct him away from that day, to get past it and move on. Still, it took him many months of pushing away those around him before he could finally reconcile with her death.

But without Obi-Wan...who would help heal his broken heart this time?

**_Oh, I can't do this again!_** he thought wildly to himself, and pulled Obi-Wan's red-gold head to his chest, burying his face in the short cropped hair, and they shared their tears, mingling, dropping into the cup, a collection of shared sorrow and pain. Their bodies rocked and shuddered together in grief and loss and the unspoken truths that were yet between them.

After a time, they quietly rested against each other, with an occasional small sniffle breaking the painful silence. Presently, Obi-Wan slowly sat up, holding one of Qui-Gon's hands, and faced his master, blue-grey eyes reddened, meeting normally bright blue ones dulled with the same. Swallowing, and taking a short, quavering breath, Obi-Wan reached to brush a loose strand of graying hair from his master's face, then trailed his fingers down Qui-Gon's cheek, tracing the path of the tears so recently shed, of tears shed before, of tears that were yet to come. He softly brushed them across his master's lips, thinking of the wise words he had learned from them, the thin line of disappointment and rebuke, the broad smiles of pride. He smiled himself slightly at the memories, and slowly he leaned forward and replaced his fingers with his own lips, softly kissing the master he had loved for so long.

Qui-Gon's eyes closed as his heart wrenched, another partially healed crack opening up again, bleeding into his very soul. This beautiful boy...so much promise, so much joy. The kiss was simple, chaste, but in it he felt every bit of love his padawan had ever held for him. Opening his eyes again, he looked straight into Obi-Wan's, shining with fresh tears and longing, and he reached for him to press him tightly against that breaking heart once again, feeling that somehow, Obi-Wan's very presence would stop it from shattering into a thousand pieces.

He felt Obi-Wan give a small chuckle while squashed so vehemently to his master's chest. Smiling a bit in response, he released the boy enough to be able to look at his face. "What's so funny?" he asked, tugging at the padawan braid.

"Nothing...I just had decided to answer my own question. How am I going to live for the next day? And, I decided, I should do the things I always wanted to do if I can. It's now or never. One of them," he ducked his head and spoke shyly, "was to finally kiss you. I've wanted to for a long time, you know?" He raised his head again, gazing at his master, gauging his reaction.

"You have?" Qui-Gon asked, in soft wonder. "Oh, Obi-Wan...why haven't you said anything before?"

"Well, after Tahl...I...really wasn't sure how you would...take that. And if you weren't able to return my feelings for you..." His eyes dropped. "I almost lost you back then. I didn't want to do anything to risk losing you for good." He fiddled with the teacup that had fallen to his lap. "But now...well, it's now or never, you know?" He flashed a wry grin at Qui-Gon. The teacup suddenly bounced onto the carpet, as Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's face in both hands and kissed him fervently, then releasing his lips but not his head. Qui-Gon's thumbs caressed Obi-Wan's cheekbones, his eyes darting from one blue-grey eye to the other. He gripped Obi-Wan firmly and with a little shake, whispered, quite fiercely, "I love you, Obi-Wan. I have for a very long time. You were the one who got me past Tahl's death. You. If you hadn't been there..." he broke off, the memory overcoming his ability to speak. He kissed Obi-Wan again, and Obi-Wan, while originally a bit stunned, responded to his master's touch and they kissed, gently, then fiercely, tongues touching tentatively, until finally, they both broke away, gasping for air, fresh tears coursing down their cheeks.

"I love you," Obi-Wan whispered. He stood then, and reached out to Qui-Gon with one trembling hand, a contrast to the quiet confidence in his eyes.

"As I said before - it's now or never. How am I going to live this day? I want to spend it with you. Loving you. Will you love me?"

Qui-Gon sat back, stunned. It was a brash, bold request from a normally polite, considerate padawan, but given the circumstances, it was not so inconceivable. He had not taken any lovers after Tahl died, and the code prevented even considering it with his own padawan. He had quashed his feelings for the boy out of respect for his training, waiting until the day he was knighted to say anything, to act on it. Yet Obi-Wan wanted to spend his last, final day outside the Force with him, loving him.

He warred with himself internally, while his hand moved of its own accord to join with Obi-Wan's. He could no longer deny what he knew to be true, to have been true for many years. The light within him was lit by Obi-Wan, and he would not dim it any longer. Time was growing short, sooner than he ever could have imagined. He had promises to keep to himself, and to make to Obi-Wan. Now or never.

Instead of rising to his feet, Qui-Gon slid to his knees on the floor, before his brave, trembling padawan. Obi-Wan's expression changed from hope to puzzlement as he stared at the large man kneeling before him, who was placing the hand he held over his heart. Qui-Gon looked deeply into Obi-Wan's eyes, willing him to understand. "Obi-Wan, not only do I love you, and will I love you, and wish for you to love me, but I also will pledge to you, my life."

Obi-Wan fell to his own knees, his turn to be stunned, overcome with emotion. He knew that Qui-Gon had said the same words to Tahl, so long ago, and that he was willing to take this step again, this time knowing that the one he pledged to would die by tomorrow, meant more to Obi-Wan than anything he had ever experienced before. With his free hand, he grasped Qui-Gon's, and pressing it to his own ill, dying heart, repeated Qui-Gon's words. "I pledge my life, to you." The impact of the statement was not lost on either of them. They both understood that Obi-Wan's life was dreadfully short, but in one brief, final day, he would give everything he had, all that he was, all that he would have been, to his master, his love.

Rising together, they embraced, tenderness and love swirling about them, until Obi-Wan once again took up Qui-Gon's hand and quietly led him to his master's room.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan walked carefully about the room, noting holographs and souvenirs that Qui-Gon had scattered about. He stopped and smiled at one holo, a picture of himself, laughing under a waterfall on Rhys-9, where they had rested a few days after returning from a difficult mission, about two years after Tahl had died. His hair was wet and his braid was plastered to his chest, and his eyes shone in the sunlight. Life and joy radiated from him, and it was one of Qui-Gon's most favored holos. Should a sadness creep into his soul, Qui-Gon only had to take up the holo and see the sheer lifeforce in the boy there, and begin healing again. It seemed so long ago now.

Obi-Wan turned to the music player, and selected a few specific tracks from the ones he favored. Soft music sounded throughout the room, and he smiled at the simple beauty of it. Music spoke to him in a way that mere words didn't, and had hoped to learn how to play an instrument, one day.

Qui-Gon observed his padawan from his perch on the edge of the bed, where Obi-Wan had bade him sit. Obi-Wan gathered some candles from the drawer, and began to place them about the room. "I always fantasized that my first time would be utterly and sweetly romantic," he offered in way of explanation, a bit embarrassed. Qui-Gon simply nodded, following the boy with patient eyes. Obi-Wan could do what he liked; this was his wish, his life.

Candles lit, lights dimmed, music playing, Obi-Wan came to kneel before his master, a look of longing and regret on his face. Qui-Gon gazed into the depths of those blue-gray eyes, and gently kissed each one closed, and he drew Obi-Wan up to sit beside him on the bed. "Are you sure this is what you want, my Obi-Wan?" he asked quietly, touching Obi-Wan's face with his fingertips.

"Completely," was the whispered reply. Keeping his eyes closed, he lowered his mental shields, and gave himself up to the sensations of his master's hands. The force of the love that washed over Qui-Gon shook him to his core, and dropping his own shields, sent his own feelings of love back to his young padawan. His large hands trembled as he slowly undid the sash of Obi-Wan's tunic, and slipped it off, baring the young man's chest. Muscular and young, fine red-gold hairs just fuzzing near the top. Qui-Gon ran one hand gently across it, brushing the nipples, resting briefly upon the beating heart, thumping fast. Qui-Gon hesitated, the cold fingers creeping again. Could this ailing heart take the act of lovemaking?

Obi-Wan sensed his distress, and quickly closed one of his own hands over Qui-Gon's, holding it there, reassuring him that for now, it was strong and sure, alive for this moment. He opened his eyes, and locked them with Qui-Gon's, cherishing the face that held them.

"I'm all right," he said softly. He gently stroked at Qui-Gon's cheek, and Qui-Gon seized his hand, bringing it to his lips, lightly kissing the palm. Obi-Wan smiled and gave a small laugh at the sensation, releasing the hand on his heart in order to work at Qui-Gon's tunic.

In short order, both tunics had been divested, both sets of leggings reverently removed by Obi-Wan himself, first revealing his own desire to his master, his cock jutting eagerly from its red-gold nest. Qui-Gon had gazed upon the strong member, its strength belying the weakness beginning to invade the body it belonged to. Lifting his chin, and swallowing convulsively, he had lain back on the bed, allowing Obi-Wan to lean over him, to gently peel his leggings away, to softly stroke one hand along Qui-Gon's own arousal.

"Master...," Obi-Wan murmured, a small sob catching in his chest, a wistful expression on his face.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon spoke softly, reaching with one hand. "Come here to me, my own."

Obi-Wan crawled up the length of the bed, failing to choke back the hot, bitter tears. He buried his face into the wall that was Qui-Gon's chest, and his shoulders heaved as he released his fears and tension, mourning the loss of future dreams. Qui-Gon gently, softly rubbed his back, murmuring over and over, "Shh, I'm here, I love you, shh..."

As his tears finally faded, Obi-Wan wiped at his eyes, and met his master's concerned blue ones. "I'm all right now," he said quietly. "I - I think I was just overwhelmed. You are more beautiful than I ever imagined, and...and..." Words no longer came. Qui-Gon smiled. "It is you who are more beautiful, my own. I wish..." He could not voice what he longed for. It would never come true. Instead, he kissed away the remaining traces of tears, moving to Obi-Wan's lips, renewing the passion that had partially subsided for Obi-Wan's burst of grief to pass.

They began to move together, slowly, mouths dancing a primal dance, hands roaming across smooth skin, across bare buttocks, hardened cocks rubbing together, beginning to strain as their desire for each other built steadily. Twisting and turning, they rolled over the bed, tangling in sheets and blankets, as they sought to be closer than they were, to meld their bodies together, to be one living, loving being, the dread of the next morning forgotten as they lived in this precious, solitary moment with each other. Pinning Qui-Gon beneath him at one point, Obi-Wan raised up to look at Qui-Gon, his face flushed with passion and need, and he smiled, so widely that Qui-Gon could not help but smile back. They held their gazes for a time, just drinking in the happiness and the joy, the desire and the unabashed love.

Obi-Wan lowered himself back down to lay along his master's body, and just touching his lips with his own, breathed his wish. "I want you to love me with your body, Master." With that, he rolled off to one side, opening his legs to his master, presenting himself, a gift.

Qui-Gon swallowed. "I...," he faltered, unable to formulate a coherent thought.

//Master. I need you. You have taught me all that I know. You have taught me to seek inside myself for the best answers, to feel for the truth. Show me, teach me, this one last thing. Let me give you what I've wanted to for so very long.//

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, surrendering to the intimacy of his padawan speaking through their bond.

//I pledged to you my life; with my body is how I can prove the truth and rightness I've found in you.//

Qui-Gon slowly took a few breaths, and he felt Obi-Wan's fingers tracking through his beard.

"Please, Master." Qui-Gon felt his heart crack again; he could not deny the boy anything now.

He knelt between Obi-Wan's legs, and for a few moments, just stroked his body, his chest, his stomach, as Obi-Wan, relishing the touch, lay his head back on the pillow, eyes closed, the wistful smile returning. Leaning over Obi-Wan, bracing himself with his hands, Qui-Gon gently kissed the curving lips, then his neck, working his way down the slender, muscular body, as it writhed beneath him, opening up to him, love and desire sweating from every pore.

*~*~*

_12:30 pm_

A knock on the outer door roused them both from the light doze they fell into after their lovemaking. Qui-Gon had been torn between taking it slowly in order to stretch out this precious, possibly only time they would be able to be this intimate with one another, and not going so slowly that Obi-Wan would end up overpowered by his climax. Obi-Wan had come with a cry and collapsed, limp and pale, reigniting Qui-Gon's greatest fear: that he had killed him; but Obi-Wan had caught his breath, and gave Qui-Gon his most brilliant smile. "Better than I ever dreamed, Master," he'd whispered, eyes shining in adoration and gratitude. He lay his head on Qui-Gon's chest, wiping at his sweat-soaked face. "Thank you."

The knock came again, a bit more insistent, but Qui-Gon was loathe to leave his padawan, even for a moment. "Go...it must be important," Obi-Wan said sleepily. "Nothing is more important than you right now, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied, running his hand across Obi-Wan's hair. "Go," Obi-Wan repeated. "I need to step into the 'fresher anyway."

Stroking one hand across a pale cheek, Qui-Gon reluctantly rose from the bed, reaching for his robe, as the knocks came again. Hurrying out to the common room, he opened the door to see Obi-Wan's two best friends, Garen and Bant, both obviously grief stricken, and a bit panicked at the time it took for a response to their knocks. "Is he all right?" Bant gasped out, her voice shaking.

"Yes, yes, he's fine right now...come in and sit down. I'll fetch him for you." The two friends gingerly sat on the edge of the sofa, apparently oblivious to Qui-Gon's lack of full clothing. He knelt before them, the heaviness apparent in his voice. "I need to speak to you both first."

Silent, sad faces nodded at him. "All right. I know he'll be very happy to see you. He's quite aware of his condition, and I don't think it will help him to hear 'you'll be fine', because he won't. You know this," he looked from one to the other, noting that Garen was struggling to retain control while Bant's tears were flowing freely. "He just needs you to be you, to love him the way I know you both do, to not turn away."

"That's why we're here, Master. We want him to know - we do care - and...and..." Garen's face crumpled and he buried his face in his hands.

Rising, Qui-Gon placed a gentle hand upon each of the bowed heads. "I'll go let him know you're here. Try to pull yourselves together, if you can." As he walked towards the bedroom, he clenched his hands together. The friends' pain washed over him, adding to his own, the ache in his heart building.

**_I can't do this!_** he railed silently, leaning against the closed door for a moment, his eyes closed in rebellion. **_I'm not strong enough to go through this again!_**

Reaching the 'fresher door, he heard the water shut off, and Obi-Wan singing some sad song Qui-Gon didn't recognize.

_"Time it was and what a time it was, it was_

_A time of innocence, a time of consequences._

_Long ago, it must be; I have a holograph_

_Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you."_

The voice was a strong and true tenor, and once more, Qui-Gon internally screamed his frustration that the galaxy would lose the sheer talent that was this boy. So gifted in so many ways; the loss would be great. Qui-Gon could almost see the yawning space in his life that should have held his padawan for so many years. Memories were all he would have; there would be no future.

He knocked gently on the door. "Obi-Wan...Garen and Bant are here to see you." There was a pause, and Obi-Wan answered quietly, "I'll be right out for them."

Qui-Gon busied himself with dressing again, heedless of his own need for the 'fresher. He laid out clothes for Obi-Wan, and observed with some trepidation the paleness in his padawan's face as he stepped into the room, only a towel around his waist, moving slower than normal. "Let me help you get dressed," Qui-Gon murmured, and Obi-Wan nodded his assent.

Barefoot, clothed in a loose tunic and leggings, he approached the sofa where his friends sat, waiting. He stood before them, a sad smile on his face, and while Qui-Gon observed silently from the doorway of the bedroom, Obi-Wan simply opened his arms and his friends fell against him, into his embrace, and the three hugged fiercely for several minutes. "I'm so glad you're here," Obi-Wan murmured to them, pressing his forehead to one, and then the other. Qui-Gon's heart lurched at the love between the three of them, and could feel Obi-Wan's force signature singing in joy.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan's face went from pale to white, and staggered backwards. Bant and Garen caught him and led him to the sofa, where Qui-Gon had already rushed to.

"Obi-Wan? Can you speak to me?" Qui-Gon's frantic eyes betrayed the steady voice with which he asked the question.

"Hold me, please," Obi-Wan whispered, his eyes closing as he fought to take a normal breath. Qui-Gon pulled him to the sofa, settling him in the crook of one knee, rubbing his hand in circles on the young man's back. Bant sat beside them, holding one of Obi-Wan's hands, while Garen knelt on the floor, one hand on Obi-Wan's knee. Obi-Wan's head rested on Qui-Gon's broad shoulder, and after a few frightening minutes, was able to sit up and speak to his friends again.

He squeezed Bant's hand, and smiled at her. "Hey, you...stop crying. I'm all right now," he said softly.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. You scared me there," she replied shakily, sniffling.

"I know...I'm sorry. I just lost my breath for a bit." He looked to Garen, still kneeling on the floor. Garen's eyes were red-rimmed and he was just gazing at Obi-Wan, memorizing him. "Garen, would you do me a favor?"

Garen blinked. "Of course...anything. What is it?" He jumped to his feet in his eagerness to help.

Obi-Wan laughed. "It's not anything drastic! Could you go in my room and bring out my rock case?"

"Sure," Garen replied, turning and practically running to Obi-Wan's room. In less than a minute, he was back, carefully carrying the wooden case, Obi-Wan's named carved into its top. He placed it gently on Obi-Wan's lap and resumed his place on the floor.

Obi-Wan reverently opened the lid. Rocks from various planets and missions were carefully preserved in their own niches, labeled for where and when they were obtained. He selected a piece of black, shiny, glasslike rock, from the volcanic planet of T'Rek. The obsidian reflected the overhead lights, glinting.

"Garen, do you remember our mission here?" Garen nodded silently, smiling at the recollection. Obi-Wan continued, "We were fourteen, and our masters let us go hiking alone. It was a great taste of freedom, to make our own decisions for a few hours, without being "mastered" all the time."

Obi-Wan turned embarrassed eyes to Qui-Gon. "Sorry, Master. I didn't mean to make that sound like I was trying to escape you."

Qui-Gon shook his head gently, a small smile curving his lips, as he waved the apology away. "Not necessary, Padawan. I, too, sometimes needed time to not BE mastering." His eyes twinkled with the memory of the boys returning, faces flushed with exercise, clothing torn from the sharp obisidian bed they had found. Obi-Wan smiled at him gratefully before turning back to Garen.

Handing the rock to him, he simply stated, "I want you to have it."

Garen could not raise his eyes from the sharp, shiny rock in his hand for a time. That Obi-Wan would part with the one of his prized stones hit him hard; the meaning of the gift, the utter finality of it sank into his stomach and rested painfully there.

Finally, swallowing hard, he looked at Obi-Wan. "I'll treasure it for always, Obi-Wan. Thank you." The young man awkwardly reached up across the box to hug Obi-Wan around the neck, and Obi-Wan returned it willingly, smacking a kiss on Garen's temple as he pulled back. They smiled at each other for a time, before Obi-Wan turned back to the box.

"Bant, I want you to have this one." He placed in her hands a large pinkish stone, small prismatic edges catching the light in rainbow hues. "It's always reminded me of you because of it's color. It's called a quartz."

Bant, her eyes shining, turned the rock around and around, delighting in its hues. "Oh, Obi-Wan, I love it. I love you. I'll keep it always." She hugged him, and her tears began again as she clung to his neck. "I'm going to miss you so much."

Obi-Wan patiently patted her back until her sobs slowed. As she sat up, he brushed the tears from her cheeks and kissed them. "I love you too. I love you both," he said, glancing from Bant to Garen. "Take care of each other." They nodded and the three friends embraced again.

Obi-Wan wasn't yet finished with his box. "I have one more here." He drew out a smooth black stone with red veins running through it. Pressing it between his palms, he could feel the Force humming within. This was the beginning of his collection, the first stone he'd ever saved.

Qui-Gon knew the rock for what it was. He had given it to Obi-Wan on his thirteenth birthday, just a few days after he had taken him for his Padawan. Obi-Wan had initially been puzzled and bit disappointed by the gift, but as time went by, he had come to treasure it. When they left for missions, Obi-Wan would carry it in a pocket in his tunic, near his heart, where he could feel it thrumming with life and take courage from the Force-signature it carried. If he were separated from his master, the rock helped Obi-Wan to focus and think, and was simply reassuring.

Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon. "I don't think I ever properly thanked you for this gift, Master. It has meant more to me over these years than I ever imagined it would." He bent his head over his hands, as if breathing in the rock's essence. "I think it's captured some of my own Force-signature," he said softly. "I need to return it to you now."

"Please, Master," he pleaded, as Qui-Gon began to protest. "I need to know you will carry it with you as I have."

Qui-Gon's blue eyes filled with tears as he accepted the stone with trembling hands. He could hear Garen and Bant sniffling as he gathered the boy to him, and they all were silent, tears moving slowly down already tracked faces.

Obi-Wan carefully pulled back from Qui-Gon's arms, resting one hand gratefully on his master's cheek, then turned to replace the lid on the case. Setting the box on the floor, he stood, swaying a bit. "I think I should go lie down for a bit. Will you two please stay for a while?" he asked, his face paling again, as Qui-Gon stood behind him, steadying him with hands on his upper arms.

"Of course we will. We'll be right here," Garen replied, and Bant nodded, her eyes still damp. Obi-Wan smiled at them, the wistful expression returning to his face, and he turned and slowly walked back to Qui-Gon's room, his master supporting him along the way.

Once Qui-Gon had helped him out of his tunic and laid him on the bed, he stepped back to the doorway and gestured to Garen. "Call your masters to come sit with you. We - I - may need you all before morning." Qui-Gon knew that the padawans' masters would be there to support them, and Qui-Gon accepted that he would likely need their support as well. Garen nodded silently and moved to the comm unit to quietly contact Master Gallia and Master Tyree.

*~*~*

_1:45 pm_

"Master?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm cold."

They were sitting in the window seat, Obi-Wan leaned back against Qui-Gon, his master's arms encircling him. Coruscant's spires shined in the midday sun, as the never-ending lines of traffic wound among them. As Qui-Gon reached for another blanket to wrap around them, Obi-Wan stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Actually, hot water sounds really good. Could I run a bath?"

Qui-Gon hugged him close. "Of course you can."

Qui-Gon helped Obi-Wan to stand, and wrapped a blanket tightly around him. Together they slowly walked to the 'fresher, and Obi-Wan leaned against the wall as Qui-Gon ran the water. Steam filled the room, and from his placement near the door, Obi-Wan could hear Garen and Bant murmuring over his case of rocks. He could sense Masters Gallia and Tyree as well, making tea in the kitchenette. He smiled to himself, grateful for their presence. He was worried for his master, and glad they would be here when the time came to help Qui-Gon move through his grief.

Qui-Gon added soothing bath oil to the water, the room filling with its scent. Obi-Wan watched him with sightly glazed eyes, shivering despite the blanket. Qui-Gon shut the water off and helped Obi-Wan remove his leggings to step into the tub.

"Will you be all right for a moment? I want to get some cold water from the kitchen in case you need a drink." Obi-Wan nodded, his face relaxing as the hot water warmed him. The cold had seemed bone-deep and the warmth was seeping in, soothing him.

"I'll be right back," Qui-Gon said, dropping a kiss to the top of Obi-Wan's head, and disappearing quickly out the door.

It occurred to him, as he stepped into the common room, that he was barefoot and barechested, but he did not care. He wanted to return to Obi-Wan quickly. He nodded and gave a small smile to the Masters seated at the dining table, as he filled a glass with water from the refrigerator. Pausing by the table on his way back, he simply said, "Thank you for being here. I - may need you."

Adi Gallia placed one hand gently on his arm. "We will be here for anything you may require. Just call."

Qui-Gon gave her a small, tight smile, his eyes betraying his sadness, and turned to walk quickly back to his room, closing the door behind him.

Obi-Wan was humming quietly to himself when Qui-Gon entered the room. "Long ago, it must be....I have a holograph. Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you."

Qui-Gon knelt behind Obi-Wan's head on the edge of the tub, and took up a washcloth. "Shall I wash your back for you, Padawan?" he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the aura of serene calm surrounding the boy.

Obi-Wan sat up and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his chin on his hands. The end of his padawan braid floated on the water. "What is your first memory of me, Qui-Gon?" he asked, closing his eyes as the soft cloth rubbed gently across his skin.

"I remember seeing you, not first in the challenges, where I watched you, but in the mess hall. You were twelve and trying to fit into your feet, I think." He chuckled at the memory. "You were walking with Garen, and you and he managed to trip each other up while carrying very full trays. Food flew everywhere, as I recall. Fortunately, your friends all helped you clean up, but you all could not stop laughing the entire time."

Obi-Wan snorted, remembering the incident. "I had no idea you saw that! You must have thought me terribly clumsy."

Qui-Gon grinned. "No, actually, it was the first time in a long time that I wanted to laugh. I had no idea who you were at the time. I learned your name later from others discussing the mess, when I overheard them. When I watched you in the training salles fighting Bruck, I recognized you then. You were the first person to make me smile since Xanatos..." Qui-Gon's voice trailed off, distant with memory, his washcloth moving to rub down Obi-Wan's arms.

"I remember the first time I saw you. I was in complete awe. You were so magnificent. You still are." He grinned at his master. "Tall, and huge, and the long flowing hair that made you seem, well, a bit wild." Obi-Wan chuckled. "We were all torn between wanting to be your padawan and being afraid you would actually choose one of us!"

"Well, choose one of you I did. Were you afraid of me?" He moved around the tub to wash Obi-Wan's chest.

"No, I was relieved, and grateful. I didn't think I was ever going to be chosen. The Agri-corps were hovering pretty close." Obi-Wan lay back in the water again, allowing Qui-Gon easier access. He turned his head to look Qui-Gon in the eye. "You were the best thing to ever happen to me. I've been proud to be your padawan."

Qui-Gon blinked back tears. "It is I who have been proud to be your Master, my Padawan." They held their gaze for a few moments, smiling wistfully at each other.

"The water is cooling, my love. Do you wish me to add more water or would you like to get out?"

"I'm warmer now; I think I'd like to go sit back at the window with you."

*~*~*

_3:00pm_

"Master, you really should eat something."

"I could say the same for you."

"My stomach isn't the one growling."

Qui-Gon snorted, and tightened his arms around Obi-Wan, rubbing his cheek along his hair. "I'll make you a deal. I'll eat if you eat."

"Mmm..all right. I want a chocolate milkfreeze."

Qui-Gon snorted. "Why does that not surprise me? When you were a boy, I think you lived on nothing but those sticky sweet things." He tugged at Obi-Wan's braid, remembering when it was shorter, and Obi-Wan, younger.

Obi-Wan smiled at the memory of a dumped milkfreeze upon a certain master's head, dripping through the long locks. "I promise not to drop it on you this time," he smirked.

"I had to wash my hair three times to get it all out," his master dryly replied. "You're sure that's all you want?" Obi-Wan nodded. "Yep."

Qui-Gon eased himself up from the window seat, and chuckling, opened the door to the common area. "Master Tyree, could you fetch us two chocolate milkfreezes from the commissary?"

*~*~*

_6:00pm_

Obi-Wan sat wrapped in a blanket on the sofa in the common room, Garen and Bant on either side of him. A holobook rested across his knees and they were looking at holos of themselves, taken when they were still initiates in the creche. Qui-Gon watched from the table where he was seated with Tyree and Adi, Adi's hand upon his own, observing with a lump in his throat when Obi-Wan would slowly drift to leaning against either Garen or Bant. Whomever he leaned on, they put a supportive arm around him, and kept on talking and pointing to pictures, until he was able to sit up on his own again. Qui-Gon could tell that Obi-Wan's friends were grateful for the chance to help him while spending some of his last bit of time with them.

At one point, Obi-Wan looked up to meet Qui-Gon's eyes. They exchanged expressions of wistful longing and reassurance, before Obi-Wan's attention was drawn back to a picture of himself doing a cannonball into a pool of bright blue water.

Obi-Wan suddenly began gasping for air, bringing Qui-Gon to his side in an instant, rubbing his back, encouraging slower breaths. Obi-Wan's face contorted with the effort of drawing a full breath, and his body shook, desperately needing oxygen.

Clasping hands, Bant and Garen had faded back to their masters, the simple pleasure of being with Obi-Wan now marred by the sight of watching their best friend struggle to breathe. After five minutes or so, an impossibly white Obi-Wan was breathing more easily, and Qui-Gon lifted him to his arms and carried him back to the bedroom. Obi-Wan lifted one weak hand to wave goodbye to his friends, and they waited until the door had closed before their tears fell for him.

*~*~*

_11:00pm_

Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open. A single candle was burning, and Qui-Gon was lying at his side, breathing quietly, holding Obi-Wan tightly to his chest, a position by now familiar for this day. Obi-Wan felt a bit like a small child, being carried about in a sling close to its mother, but Obi-Wan felt secure in his master's embrace. "Master?" he whispered, not sure if Qui-Gon was awake or asleep.

"Yes, Padawan?"

"I'd like to go somewhere. Will you take me?"

"Where do you wish to go, my love?"

"I'd like to go to the starmap room. I want to look at the galaxy one last time."

One last time. The finality of the Obi-Wan's simple wish rocked Qui-Gon to his core. **_I'm losing him._**  
The ever-present ache in his center flared to a sharp, horrible pain. **_Oh, gods, help me._**

Barely hiding his distress, Qui-Gon leaned down and kissed Obi-Wan softly. "Wherever you wish, my padawan, my own." He pulled his boots on, then his robe, and lifted Obi-Wan to his arms. Silently, they moved through the common room, bypassing the sleeping friends curled on the sofa and in chairs. Adi, still awake, watched them go by. Qui-Gon mouthed, "starmap room" at her, and she nodded with understanding.

The halls were quiet at this time of night, and Qui-Gon met only a few concerned faces, sending sympathy with their eyes, murmuring words, their hands squeezing Obi-Wan's as they said goodbye. Once they reached the starmap room, Qui-Gon Force-locked the door so that they would not be disturbed.

"I have a strange request, Master," Obi-Wan said, as Qui-Gon prepared to set him in a chair. "Strange?" asked Qui-Gon, squatting before him. "How so?"

Obi-Wan gave him a shy, embarrassed smile. "I've always wanted to lay in the middle of this room, staring up into the galaxy, with no clothes on. Just me and space. Silly, huh?" He laughed quietly.

"On the contrary, it sounds...fascinating. May I join you?" They laughed quietly together for a moment, and Qui-Gon spread their robes on the floor, and adjusted the heat in the room so his padawan would not become chilled. He helped Obi-Wan out of his leggings, and then his own, before switching the star map on.

Small beads of light lit the room around them, playing off their skin, planets of red, blue, green silently circling them, white stars glowing. The lay in opposite directions of each other, heads side by side, and watched as entire star systems turned soundlessly over their heads, around their bodies.

"So many places I'll never visit. You'll have to see them for me, Master," Obi-Wan spoke softly. "Maybe you could continue my rock collection."

Qui-Gon's heart squeezed, and he fought the tears that seemed ever-present. "Perhaps I will, Padawan," he murmured, turning his head to kiss Obi-Wan's soft and youthful cheek. Obi-Wan leaned into the touch and captured Qui-Gon's lips with his own. They kissed gently, with no urgency or expectations for a minute or two, and then resumed their stargazing.

Within an hour, Qui-Gon noted regular, quiet breathing from his padawan, and raised up on one elbow to check on him. Obi-Wan had fallen asleep. The lights of the planets danced across his body, dappling his pale skin. He seemed a part of the galaxy itself, a heavenly body of his own accord, and Qui-Gon found the image soothing to his ragged spirit. His lifemate would be of the Force, of the galaxy, of everything around him. "Not only will you see all the places you think you won't," he whispered, winding the end of Obi-Wan's braid around his fingers, "but I believe you will be a part of them." He pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan's forehead, and then carefully stood to dress and gather Obi-Wan up in his robe, to return him to their quarters.

*~*~*

_2:00am_

They were spooned together on the bed, naked as Obi-Wan had requested, his failing strength preventing any physical love between them save for the intimate touching of skin to skin. He drew warmth from his master's body, and feeling the massive chest pressed against his back was the closest thing to heaven he could think of, until he saw heaven himself. And even then, he wondered if he would change his mind about which was better.

Lightning flashed outside the window, orange and pink bolts reaching for each other across black clouds. Thunder rolled overhead. Obi-Wan loved thunderstorms; it was fitting that there would be one this night, as if staging just for him, a farewell display of electricity and power.

Qui-Gon was fiddling with Obi-Wan's braid, winding and unwinding it around his fingers, feeling the smoothness of the beads under his fingertip, remembering the meaning for each one. The red one for becoming his padawan. White for achieving the fourth form. Green for becoming a Senior Padawan. So much Obi-Wan had succeeded in completing, all but passing the trials of a Knight. He had come so close. Again, Qui-Gon screamed silently at the waste of taking Obi-Wan so young, when he had so much yet to give.

Obi-Wan sensed his distress and reached one hand up to entwine with the braid and Qui-Gon's fingers. "I've been thinking about this, Master," he said, shifting so he could see his face. "I know that, traditionally, when a padawan becomes a knight, the braid is given to the master as a remembrance." Qui-Gon nodded; this was true. "I wish to give this to you now. I know I'm not a knight, but..." He stopped as he saw his master's face begin to crumple. The stress of the day, the worry, fear, and fatigue were catching up with him, and this - yet another gift his padawan was offering him. Obi-Wan had spent his last day giving, giving, and giving of himself, to his master, to his friends. Obi-Wan smiled, sensing his thoughts. "Ah, but you have given me so much today. You've indulged my every little whim. You fulfilled my dreams with your body in mine, and you've given me your heart. I am so grateful that you have been here with me this last day. I'm not afraid when you're with me." He snaked one arm around Qui-Gon's neck, and kissed at the tears trickling down the long, broken nose. "You have taught me well, my master. You have earned my braid."

As lightning flashed again, Qui-Gon clutched the boy to him, sobs wracking his body, his control completely shattered, reminiscent of that horrible day so long ago. He was dimly aware of the door opening, and of Obi-Wan's hand weakly waving to let whomever it was know that it was all right, he wasn't gone yet, that Qui-Gon just needed to release. He sent a ragged wave of gratitude to the common room, to those keeping vigil over them, and felt four waves of warmth and support return to him, to them both, washing over them, calming and soothing.

Taking deep breaths, Qui-Gon resumed some semblance of self-control, and he reached for the bedside table, for the knife he stored there with the rest of his utility belt tools when not in use. Obi-Wan's eyes shone as he tilted his head to one side, preparing for the cut.

Thunder rumbled as Qui-Gon placed the knife against Obi-Wan's head, and he drew a shaky breath. "I confer upon you, the title of Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi. May you continue to serve the galaxy well and true." With one flick of the wrist, the braid was cut, and Qui-Gon carefully handed it to Obi-Wan before turning to replace the knife in the drawer.

Obi-Wan slowly sat up, fighting a wave of dizziness as his head adjusted to being upright. As Qui-Gon sat to face him, he wound the braid around Qui-Gon's left bicep, securing the ends and tucking them in. "For my master; may he continue to teach well and long."

Qui-Gon smiled at the simple words, but in his heart, he knew. He would never take another padawan. He would constantly be comparing anyone else with this intelligent, giving, bright boy before him, and that wouldn't be fair to any other student, to be constantly trying to measure up to a ghostly former apprentice.

"You needn't call me 'master' any longer," Qui-Gon said with a rueful sigh. "We are equals now."

"I would still like it if you continued to call me Padawan," Obi-Wan replied, the wistful smile returning to his face. "I've come to love how you say it. I love the way your mouth shapes words, especially when you are speaking to me," he whispered, touching Qui-Gon's lips with his fingers.

"Padawan."

"Qui-Gon. Master."

Qui-Gon leaned forward and caressed Obi-Wan's forehead with his lips, then his cheekbones, and finally caught his mouth, a sweet, slow kiss that Obi-Wan returned briefly before his breathing caught in his chest, and Qui-Gon helped guide him to slower, deeper breaths. Lightning flashed, and thunder rolled, moving away.

*~*~*

_5:30am_

"There is one planet I always wanted to visit, but we never did get an assignment there." Obi-Wan spoke softly, his strength obviously waning. It was near dawn. He was sitting up against Qui-Gon's chest, and Qui-Gon was leaning against the headboard of the bed. Blankets were tucked around them, and Qui-Gon's arms were snug against the young man in front of him, their hands intertwined together.

Qui-Gon rested his cheek against the red-gold hair below him, breathing in Obi-Wan's unique spicy scent. It was fading, and Qui-Gon felt a tremor of alarm ring through him. Reflexively, he tightened his grip on his padawan, and asked, "where is that, my love?"

"Arco Iris. I always wanted to see the rainbow there. They say you can climb to the top of Mt. Iris and be inside the rainbow; that when you look up, all you see are the colors above and around you. I would have loved to have seen that."

"That does sound beautiful, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon pressed his cheek more firmly to Obi-Wan's head, blinking back tears. He was so weary of tears.

"I have a favor to ask of you, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan's voice was steady and sure, if soft. "When my ashes have been removed from the pyre, take them to Arco Iris. Take me to the mountaintop and cast me into the rainbow. Then I'll always be part of it, part of every rainbow you'll ever see."

Qui-Gon's body shook with the force of his sobs. Obi-Wan reached back with one hand and stroked at his master's hair, unbound and cascading down both sets of shoulders. He began to rock from side to side, rocking them together, humming with the music playing on the radio, a slow sweet song, as his own tears fell for his master's grief and pain.

At length, Qui-Gon was able to speak. "I will do it." Obi-Wan turned his head to see Qui-Gon's face, swollen, eyes red-rimmed. "Thank you," he whispered and gave his master one gentle kiss.

Beneath his left arm, tightened across Obi-Wan's chest, Qui-Gon felt an erratic beat, and Obi-Wan gasped, just once. "Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon's panicked voice was loud in the quiet room.

"I'm all right...it was just momentary." But another flutter, stronger this time, caused Qui-Gon to try to lay Obi-Wan down on the pillow, but Obi-Wan resisted. "No - please, I need you to hold me. Don't let me go. Please," his voice a whisper, his eyes locking with Qui-Gon's, his anxiety showing in the blue-grey depths, pupils wide.

Licking dry lips, Qui-Gon settled himself warily back against the headboard, cuddling Obi-Wan as close as possible, arms wrapped tightly about him, their legs twined, as if to protect Obi-Wan from the spectre of death with his own body.

"I'm sorry, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispered.

"Sorry for what, Padawan?" he spoke quietly into the soft hair. "For your pain. For the pain I'm causing you." Qui-Gon clutched at him again. The pain was true and real; it was radiating out of him. He could not prevent it. "It's not your fault, Padawan...it's no one's fault. It just...is. We have to accept what the moments bring."

"Promise me something, Qui-Gon." He turned his head up to look at Qui-Gon again, and a shadow flitted across his face as his heart skipped a few beats again. Catching in one deep breath, he regained control and spoke. "Please do not disappear into yourself again. I couldn't bear it if...if you..." he stopped to catch his breath again.

Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's heart, beating rapidly and unevenly. He sent a wave of reassurance though the Force to the padawan in his arms, as he bent to kiss him.

"What I did after Tahl died...retreated into myself, shut everyone out. You don't want that to happen again." Obi-Wan nodded, blinking rapidly, glad he had been understood as his breath was taken from him. "I can promise you that I'll try. You are so much a part of me...the emptiness may be more than this old man can bear."

Obi-Wan gave him a quick sideways grin before focusing on breathing. "Master Yoda says there is no try...do or do not," he panted out, resting his head against Qui-Gon, his eyes closing as his breathing slowed, but not quite coming under control, his heartbeat still keeping an erratic rate. "And you are not old."

Qui- Gon couldn't help but smile at his apprentice, a title that was moot, by this point. He had nothing more to teach him. There was no more time for any lessons, for words of wisdom, for guidance. Silently, he cursed the illness that was ravaging his padawan before his eyes. Taking this beautiful, bright being, denying the galaxy of his presence, when there was so much more for him to do, to share with others, to teach his master as surely as his master had taught him.

It wasn't fair. Inwardly, Qui-Gon raged with the injustice of it. He wanted to scream out his pain, his hurt, his anger, shake the galaxy for its wasteful ignorance of this beautiful, beautiful boy.

Obi-Wan clutched at Qui-Gon's hand, placing it over his weakened, damaged heart. He squeezed, and Qui-Gon's thumb rode relentlessly back and forth over Obi-Wan's fingers, the grip of them desperate as Obi-Wan struggled, his eyes fluttering open and closed.

"You still have...work to do, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan gasped out. "There are...others who need your wisdom and strength." The light in his eyes began to fade.

Silently, Qui-Gon shook his head. He couldn't see past this moment, right now, his love dying in his arms.

"Qui-Gon, I will still be with you. I know this now. I can see Tahl..." One shaking hand reached weakly up. "Oh it's - it's beautiful. I can see your force signature - it's reaching up to hers, and hers down to you. And mine is reaching - she's waiting to help me...oh..." He stopped and heaved several short, desperate breaths. He gave Qui-Gon a small smile, full of hope. Panting, his eyes closing again, he continued. "I loved you through her death, and I've loved you through this day..." Another short burst of breaths, his heart beating wild, erratically, strong with one beat, weak with the next. "She's been loving you all this time. I think you've felt her, haven't you?" He opened dulling eyes to look at Qui-Gon, his upturned face impossibly white, mouth open and drying from his gasps.

Qui-Gon, tears streaming down his face, nodded. "Yes - I believe I have," he whispered with quiet awe. He raised his eyes up, as if to seek out what Obi-Wan could see.

"I will love you always. We will always be with you. We'll be waiting...for you..."

Obi-Wan did not speak again. His head against Qui-Gon's chest, Qui-Gon's hand pressed to his own weakened heart, he stiffened once, drew a last long shaky breath, and then relaxed, a soft sigh escaping him, against his pledged lifemate, as the rays of the dawning sun touched his face.

"No." Qui-Gon began to rock, the limp body cradled in his arms unresisting, and began to keen his loss. All the rage and anger that had been building up inside him during this long, yet all too short day released in a howl of sheer pain.

_ **"NOOOOOOOOO!"** _

Adi and Tyrell rushed into the room, their faces grim, and behind them, their apprentices, anxious hands clutched together as the truth of the sad image before them struck home.

Obi-Wan was gone.

*~*~*

_Two weeks later._

The sky was an impossible shade of blue, and several times Qui-Gon turned his face up to the sun to enjoy the warmth as he climbed Mt. Iris, a small bundle on his back, a braid wrapped around his arm. Behind him, Garen and Bant laughed quietly together as they too climbed along the grassy slopes, delighting in the small flowers and hidden patches of small strawberries that grew there.

Qui-Gon had kept his promise to try. He had allowed Adi and Tyrell to assist him in preparing Obi-Wan's body for the pyre, and accepted the help of various other masters and padawans as they offered meals and housekeeping, many just sitting with him quietly, encouraging him to speak of Obi-Wan often.

Several times, he found himself with his head in the lap of whomever was with him, weeping. The first was Mace Windu, arriving mere minutes after Obi-Wan's death. It was he who convinced Qui-Gon to release his hold on his padawan's body, growing cold in his arms, and rested his hand on Qui-Gon's graying head when he fell to the floor in his grief, his own tears flowing for his friend's pain. The truth of Qui-Gon's feelings for his padawan became public knowledge, yet no one criticized him for it; rather, they admired him for his strength and tenacity in choosing to wait until the boy was knighted. That he had broken the vow was dismissed given the circumstances.

Qui-Gon's heart, while pained now with two losses, was not as heavy as it was when Tahl had died. He allowed himself to grieve and release as much of his pain to the Force as he could. Obi-Wan had counseled his master well. Already, the Council had offered him a mission, if he felt ready to take it. A simple treaty negotiation on the small planet of Naboo. He accepted, but asked to take one brief trip first, to fulfill a deathbed promise he'd made to his padawan.

He requested that Garen and Bant to accompany him on this journey. Their youthful presence reminded Qui-Gon of Obi-Wan's own exuberance, and he welcomed it, grateful they were willing to share this time with him.

By midday, they had reached the summit. Looking up and around them, the colors of the rainbow tinted all they saw. Far mountain ranges, oceans, lakes...all were painted in hues of red and yellow, green and blue, violet and indigo.

It was a breathtaking view. "He would have truly loved this," Qui-Gon murmured to his companions. They silently nodded their agreement, turning to see all that was laid out before them, thinking of Obi-Wan.

A sparkling crystal captured Qui-Gon's attention, lying near his feet. He picked it up and turned it in the sunshine, watching in wonder as its color shifted from green to blue to green again. Qui-Gon caught his breath, remembering Obi-Wan's beautiful chameleon eyes. Wiping at his own, he slipped it carefully into the pocket within his tunic, to rest against the black and red stone he now carried everywhere with him, against his heart.

Removing the bundle from his back, Qui-Gon pulled out a small metal box, marked with the Jedi symbol for peace. Opening it, he carefully poured some of the contents into the cupped hands of Garen and Bant, then took the rest into his own work-worn hands.

"I will see you again, my Obi-Wan," he whispered, and together they tossed his ashes to the sky. Sparks and glints of each particle shone within the colors, a brilliant display of fire and light, the ashes absorbing into the arc. Not one fell back to earth.

"I will see you again."

_~end_

_June, 2003_

_ **Time it was, and what a time it was, it was** _

_ _

_ **A time of innocence, a time of confidences.** _

_ _

_ **Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph.** _

_ _

_ **Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you.** _

~"Bookends" by Simon &amp; Garfunkel.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my father Bobby. (February 28, 1948 - February 6, 2002)  
> Thank you - to my patient, sniffly Master Beta Reader Briony, and to Raina, for allowing me to use the cliffs imagery from her story, "Destiny."


End file.
